


The Best Thing

by GraciousK



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Steve Rogers, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:39:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7290754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraciousK/pseuds/GraciousK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky thinks he knows the best thing about being with Steve. But as times change - and so does Steve - Bucky realizes there's more to it than he would let himself admit. A fic in two chapters, beginning with pre-serum Steve and ending mid-war. Rated Explicit for very good reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pre-Serum

Bucky tells himself the best thing about fucking Steve was being able to manhandle him, and that’s close enough to the truth to work. With girls he was always gentle, but Steve was a man, and Bucky gave it to him like one.

It didn’t hurt that Steve was light and limber enough for Bucky to throw him around somethin' good. One hand gripping Steve's waist, the other braced under a skinny thigh, Bucky easily bounced Steve on his oleo-slicked cock. To his credit, Steve was working himself down onto Buck as hard as he could, but it was Bucky's muscle that really put the oomph into their movements. It was a good thing too, since Bucky had to take over when Steve got distracted jacking himself.

Bucky shifted to grip the lean meat of Steve’s thighs with both hands for better leverage to keep their bodies moving. From this vantage point Bucky could take it all in, grinning like a fool as the pre-orgasm flush spread over Steve's chest. Steve's shoulders twisted; his mouth contorted. His wrist snapped over that beautiful cock, too big for Steve's body, jutting out of the juncture between them. All while Bucky pistoned Steve up and down, fucking himself with Steve’s body.

Steve spurted all over both of them, moaning and rocking and squeezing Bucky's cock with his insides. A fire lit in Bucky’s loins -- it was nothing at all to shove Steve back onto the mattress, grip him by the hipbones, and pound him as fast as Bucky's hips would go. Bucky finished quickly just like that, grunting with each sharp thrust.

Afterwards Bucky lit a cigarette, then laughed at the look of disgust on Steve's face. "C'mon, Stevie. With all the work I just did, I earned this."

"It's gonna give me a conniption."

"I thought that's what I just gave ya," Bucky said, reaching over with his free hand to tweak Steve's belly. Steve swatted him away, smiling. "Anyway I heard that smoke's good for asthma."

Steve snorted. "From who?"

Bucky took a drag. "Some snake oil salesman."

"Bet he sold tobacco, too.”

* * *

The next time, Steve really did have a fit. Steve was grinding hard on top of Bucky, each upward thrust driving gasps from his throat. Bucky’s hands were roaming Steve’s body, so he could feel right away when Steve’s gasping turned reedy. Bucky stilled. "You okay?"

Steve nodded, trying to play it off, but the fact that he wasn't answering with words made Bucky stop cold. He lifted Steve off him, scooting out from underneath. Steve pulled away while shaking his head angrily. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

Bucky rolled to face Steve as he moved. "How bad is it? Can you talk?"

Steve shot him a glare and sucked in a thin breath. "You sh-," he began, interrupted by a cough. He wheezed in between every word. "Shouldn't. Have. Stopped."

Bucky himself propped up on one arm, his other hand pressed to Steve's back. He rubbed firm circles into Steve's skin as if trying to stir his lungs into action. "You kiddin' me? I mighta killed you."

Steve scowled. "Not-"

"Don't waste your breath." He met Steve's rolling eyes with a wink and a grin. A few seconds later, he added, "I mean it. Try to get some air in you."

The biting look on Steve's face was undercut by the sucking sounds coming from his chest every time he inhaled. Bucky kept rubbing his back, up and down each side of the gently twisting track of his spine. A frown grew on his face as he listened to Steve's strained breathing. After a few minutes, he said, "Sounds like it's getting worse. Want me to go boil some water?"

Steve didn't bother looking offended; he just nodded. As Bucky rose from the bed, Steve closed his eyes and focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In, _goddamnit, in_. The sounds of Bucky's movements were background noise, seeming very far away compared to the crushing weight in Steve's chest. Lights went on and then off again. Footsteps came and went.

It felt like forever before Bucky was back. "Here." Steve opened his eyes to see that Bucky had pulled a chair in front of him, a towel flung over the back. He stood behind it with a steaming pan. "Lemme just..." Bucky tucked the chair a little closer before carefully setting the pan onto the seat.

Steve leaned over it gratefully. He let Bucky drape the towel over his head to trap the steam. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

"There you go," Bucky said. He sat back down next to Steve, his palm resuming its calming circuit on Steve's back. "I've got more on the stove for when that cools down. Just gimme a tap, and I'll fill 'er up."

Steve nodded, then focused on his breathing again.

Three refills later, Steve could breathe well enough to tell Bucky to go lie down. Bucky did, but only just - curling himself around Steve’s back, keeping one hand pressed flat between Steve's shoulder blades. When this last pot ran cold, Steve lay down himself, shouldering Bucky backwards to make some space on the bed.

Bucky shifted to envelop him, tucking his chin to the top of Steve's head, working a knee to rest comfortably between Steve's skinny legs. Before he let himself fall asleep, Bucky placed his hand on Steve's chest to feel it rise and fall. Neither of them would ever admit it out loud, but they both took silent comfort in the gesture.

* * *

Bucky woke to the first light of dawn through the windows and Steve's fingers wrapping around his cock. He looked down into Steve's smiling blue eyes. "Guess you're feelin' better."

"Loads better."

"Loads, huh? I got one of those for ya." Bucky smirked, feeling himself stiffen in Steve's fist.

"You better. I'm still mad at you for quittin' early on me."

Bucky laughed. "You got one hell of a death wish. One of these days you're gonna get yourself screwed to death, if one of your cockamamie fights doesn't end you first."

"You better not be thinkin' about taking it easy on me."

"Oh, yeah?" It was half a challenge and half a groan. Steve was really doing a number on him downstairs.

"Don't make me fight you on this."

"I dunno, Stevie. Maybe we take this one slow. I know how much you like to cuddle- hey!"

Steve thumped him good, right in the chest. Before he could pull away, Bucky had Steve by the wrist. He caught Steve's other arm when he brought it up to defend himself, shifting to roll his weight over the slighter man. Bucky pinned him easily, arms stretched out above their heads.

"Gotcha." Bucky grinned.

"Wouldn't wanna be anywhere else." Steve grinned right back.

Then Bucky’s mouth came crashing down on Steve’s, and all pretense of “going easy” went right out the window.


	2. Post-Serum

Steve was nothing but overjoyed to be marching next to Bucky. It was obvious from the spring in his step and the grin he kept shooting Buck's way every third step he took. Bucky was grateful to be alive and free, and he couldn't help but smile back. Anything else'd be like kicking a puppy. All Steve ever wanted to do in his life is serve, and here he was. Bucky would never begrudge him that.

But he couldn’t help having mixed feelings when they broke their march to camp for the night and Steve made as if to bivvy up with him. Bucky spoke quietly, not wanting to be seen making a fuss: "You sure that's a good idea?"

"What?" Steve said, all too innocent. "I haven't seen you in two years. Don't you wanna catch up?" Steve took off his helmet with a casual shrug. "Anyway, it's gonna be a cold night. Might have to huddle up for warmth."

Steve's eyes flicked up to meet Bucky's, and they had a conversation in facial expressions. Bucky glowered a warning, then glanced around at the men who were bedding down nearby. When he looked back, Steve just curled his lips and canted his eyebrows in that old familiar dare-me-to-do-it smile. Bucky rolled his eyes and turned away, bending to clear some twigs out of a relatively comfortable-looking patch of scrub.

Steve plunked down in the space he’d just cleared, and Bucky couldn't help but smile. There's the ole Brooklyn pain in the ass. Some things'll never change.

It did shock him a little when Steve leaned in by a fraction and spoke in hushed tones, "You think I forgot how to be quiet?"

"Says the guy who's still runnin' his mouth," Bucky retorted.

"You love this mouth," Steve said, low and sly.

"You're really askin' for it, Stevie," Bucky said, trying his hardest to sound threatening.

Steve only grinned wider. "I really am."

Bucky gave Steve a slug in the arm, equal parts amazed and appalled at the solid mass he found there. Then he planted his ass next to Steve's, and they got back to regular talk. Bucky told Steve about his tour, trailing off before he got to the bits he didn't want to remember. Mostly he let Steve go on about this Captain America business, prodding him with questions whenever he seemed like he was running out of steam.

It was good to hear his voice, but Bucky just couldn't get used to Steve's new body. He was bigger than Bucky, not just taller but broader too. The lines of his body were all different, right down to the curve of his spine - straight and strong, without a trace of his former scoliosis. Bucky told himself that Steve's healthy now, that he'd have to be a monster to resent him for it. That it shouldn't feel wrong. But there was no reasoning with the roiling in his guts when he glanced at Steve's bulk in the fading light.

It wasn't until well after the night went black and the sound of snores rose from all around them when Bucky felt Steve's probing hand against his hip. Bucky turned his head, just barely able to make out the glint of Steve's eyes in the starlight that filtered down through the canopy above. And then Steve was on him, kissing him fiercely.

Steve's lips felt the same as always - and oh god, did Bucky ever miss this, more than he'd realized - but his grip was so much stronger, digging hard points into Bucky's hips and back. There was another hard point digging into Bucky's front as Steve pressed the whole length of his body down. Having Steve close again should have been nothing but bliss, but Bucky couldn't stop noticing the differences. Steve's body didn't move the same way, couldn't be pushed the same way, couldn't even be held the same way. They didn't fit together right anymore.

Steve had homed in on Bucky's cock like it was the only thing that mattered, one hand down his pants like a schoolboy copping a feel. He still knew exactly how Bucky operated, that bastard. His practiced hand already had Bucky at attention, and it had been so long... but even something about _that_ was different.

 _It’s because his hands are bigger,_ Bucky realized. That was the final strangeness that made him pause at last. "Steve," Bucky hissed, more urgently.

"I thought you were dead," Steve breathed, hot against Bucky's cheek. "I thought I'd never have you again."

"Everything’s so different," Bucky mouthed.

"I'm still me," Steve whispered back. Bucky was taken aback that Steve heard him at all, then realized the stuff they gave Steve must’ve worked on his hearing, too. "Same me I've always been." Steve’s hand worked in all the right places, weakening Bucky's resistance. "You want me to stop?" he asked, squeezing and pulling _just right_.

Bucky had to stifle a groan. When he trusted himself to be quiet, Bucky replied, "God... I dunno..."

Steve let go. He bent his neck to press a warm kiss to the crook of Bucky's jaw. Then he brought his mouth to Bucky's ear and spoke in the faintest whisper, "What if I used my mouth?"

Bucky considered. It didn't take him long. He turned his head to catch Steve's lips with his own, and kissed him deep. Steve took the hint, drawing away to move silently down Bucky's body.

Bucky had to hold his breath to stop himself from moaning as Captain fucking America began to suck his cock.

* * *

In London they finally had the privacy to give it a real go. Steve’s room was nicer than either of their homes back in New York – one of the perks of being Captain America. The first thing they did after kicking off their boots was to rip the featherbed off the mattress. The damn thing was too soft for either of them to stand.

They stood over the stripped bed, eyeing each other up. Bucky fished in his pocket, brought out a tin of Vaseline he’d begged from one of the vainer men in his company who was using it as hair grease. He flipped it in his hand. Tossed it onto the bed. Smirked up at Steve, whose blue eyes burned back at him.

Steve held Bucky’s gaze as he shucked off his layers. First the belt and tie, dropped onto the floor at his side. Next came the suit jacket, draped over the desk-chair. When Steve shrugged the shirt off his broad shoulders, Bucky made a noise of disbelief. “Holy hell. You got muscles I didn’t know existed.”

Steve dipped his chin in a modest gesture. “Not bad, huh?”

“Not bad?” Bucky marveled. “You’ve got more beef on you than Atlas.”

Steve looked down at himself, then back at Bucky’s face. “Is that… are you okay with…?” He gestured down at himself, eyes falling to the floor. “I know it’s not-“

Bucky cut him off by covering Steve’s mouth with his own. He had to crane his neck to do it, right hand rising to cup Steve’s face. Afterwards he gave Steve’s cheek a gentle pat. “It’s not about what you look like. It’s never been about that.”

Steve’s hands were already on Bucky’s body, groping up his chest and under his jacket. “Speak for yourself. I only let you in here ‘cause you’re such a looker.” Before Bucky could wisecrack back at him, Steve bent to kiss him again. He shoved the jacket down Bucky’s arms, then moved his hands to Bucky’s shirt buttons.

The buttons gave him enough trouble that Steve had to break the kiss to look down, giving Bucky the chance to ask: “What about your, ah, lady in red?”

“What about her?” Steve asked, his hands slowing but not stopping, eyes staying resolute on his task.

“Dunno what she’d think of you playing grab-ass with your old friend Bucky, is all.”

Steve reached the last button. His hands fell to his sides. “I wasn’t planning on telling her. Were you?” He forced himself to look up into Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky’s face was more serious than his tone. “I just figured, when you found yourself a girl…”

Steve shrugged. “It’s not like that. What you and I got is somethin’ else.” His hands rose to rest on Bucky’s hips possessively. “Anyway, for all I know, she’s fondue-ing it with Howard Stark.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised, a how-about-that smile coming over his face. “Wow. Can’t say I blame her. I’d tear off a chunk off that myself if I had half a chance.”

Steve shoved at Bucky’s shoulder playfully, using only a fraction of his strength. It still pushed Bucky back half a foot. “You take that back.”

Bucky was grinning now. “Make me, y’ little punk.”

Steve came at Bucky with force this time, steamrolling him backwards, stripping the shirt off his back in an instant and tossing it aside. Bucky toppled flat onto the mattress, Steve’s hands already at Bucky’s trousers, yanking everything down all at once. Bucky kicked his feet free as Steve took his own pants down. 

Then they were both naked: Bucky on the bed with his knees hanging over, Steve standing over him. Steve's gaze raked up and down Bucky's body. "Mm, mm, mm," he intoned, the sound of a man who likes what he sees.

Bucky grinned and patted his thighs, inviting.

Steve took him up on it gladly, planting one knee on the bed, hoisting the other up and over to straddle him. Steve's palms moved over Bucky's skin, tracing the familiar lines of Bucky's body with his fingertips.

Bucky arched his body up into the touch. His shoulders were square in the bed, chest and abdominal muscles flexing, driving his groin up into the space between Steve's thighs. Before, this would've lifted Steve right up. Now it barely budged him, but the solid weight was just as sweet in its own way.

Steve bent low, bracing with his left hand to hold himself up over Bucky's body. He wedged his right arm under Bucky's waist, pulling them flush against each other as their lips locked. Steve had always been a fierce kisser, but now he had real muscle behind it. He kissed Bucky breathless.

Bucky dug his fingers into the meat of Steve's back, grabbing at Steve as if to drag him down, managing only to pull himself up against Steve's unyielding body. There were other parts of Steve that felt bigger too, laying heavy against Bucky's thigh.

When Steve finally leaned back on his haunches, Bucky got a good look. "Jesus, Steve. You're huge."

"Yeah, well." Steve said humbly. "It's a good thing I'm the punk and not you, huh?"

Bucky answered him by reaching down to where the Vaseline tin was digging into his side. He offered it to Steve with a glint in his eye.

Steve smiled back as he took it, opened it, scooped a hearty dollop into his fingers. Then he grabbed Bucky's big one and went to work.

Between the grease and Steve's practiced strokes, Bucky was soon ready and raring to go. He drew his knees up behind Steve's ass to nudge him gently forward. Steve complied, scooting up on his knees until Bucky's cock was prodding between his cheeks.

Bucky reached down to hold it steady, but it was Steve who moved his body to get the angle right. As they lined up they paused, each looking to the other for confirmation. Then Steve pressed his weight down slow and steady.

Bucky groaned as the familiar grip of Steve's body took hold of him. His hands went to Steve's thighs, seizing hard on solid muscle. Steve didn't have to bend to Bucky's touch, not anymore - but he did it anyway, gasping and grimacing, settling all the way down until there was no gap between them.

It didn't hurt as much as it used to, though Steve didn’t know whether that was the Vaseline or his new body or both. It didn’t matter. It just felt good.

Steve gave his own cock a leisurely tug. He looked down at Bucky, smiling at his wild stare and gaping mouth. Then he really started to work - himself with his hand, and Bucky with his body. Steve's lungs were full of air, and his legs were strong, and his ass was full, and his hand - well, his hand was alright, but on top of everything else it was just dandy. He could do this all night.

Bucky pushed and pulled at Steve’s body out of instinct, but he soon realized that Steve was in complete control of the action this time. He ignored the twinge of loss in his chest and tried to just enjoy the ride. It was different, sure, but he could get used to it. Not having to do the work meant that Bucky could focus on that incredible feeling of tightness wrapped around him. And it was an unexpectedly pleasant change of pace, being able to lie back and admire the Herculean body flexing on top of him.

Though Bucky was glad the serum hadn't changed Steve's face much. He still had the same expressions, the same eyes. A little broader jaw, yeah, but Steve’s eyes were still just as blue, and Steve’s mouth still twisted the same way it always did when he got going.

And he certainly was going, pumping his body onto Bucky's cock in a steady rhythm. It was working Bucky up quicker than he’d thought, between the sucking grip on his cock and the gorgeous display on top of him. Bucky found himself moaning without thinking, grabbing Steve’s hips not to pull him down but just to hold on for dear life.

Steve watched with a growing sense of satisfaction. Just when he'd thought he'd discovered all the things his new body could do, he found something new, and better than all the rest of 'em put together. Steve had waited his whole live to give it to Bucky like this, and he hadn't even known it. Bucky was goddamn beautiful underneath him, sweat slick on muscles coiled and tense.

Steve picked up the pace even further until his thighs burned with the effort - careful not to rise too high that Bucky slipped out, careful not to slam back down so hard as to hurt him. Bucky was close, and Steve wanted to finish him off right.

Bucky came loud and hard, like he always did. Steve couldn't stop smiling as he worked him through it. _I did that_ , he thought as Bucky's body snapped underneath him. Steve kept it up until Bucky stopped him with a "Whoa, okay, hey," and a few gentle pats.

Steve sat grinning on him, proud of his work. "That was quick."

Bucky laughed, breathless. "You got some skills, pal. You really laid me out."

Steve didn't think he could have smiled any wider, but hearing that did it anyway. He ran a broad hand up Bucky's chest affectionately before dismounting. Even that hurt less than it used to.

He flopped down next to Bucky, who rolled into him for a long, deep kiss. Then Bucky surprised Steve by murmuring, "Don't think we're done just yet," against his lips, hand trailing down Steve's body. It was something Bucky had hardly ever done - hardly ever needed to do, since Steve had always been quick on the trigger.

Steve hummed a note of approval, shifting his hips so that it was at an easier angle to grasp. But still he asked, "You sure you don't mind?"

"You're kiddin' me, right?"

"Just makin' sure. You don't have to, if you don't, ah, if you-" Steve stammered as Bucky started going at it.

"I think maybe you just don't wanna share your new toy," Bucky said. His grip was firm, already speeding up.

"Uh..." Steve was having trouble finding words.

"Shut up and enjoy this."

"Uh-huh," Steve responded, just barely. His eyes were already squeezed shut. His head tipped forward, coming to rest against Bucky's cheek. Long minutes passed with only the sound of Steve's heavy breathing and Bucky's hand moving on his cock.

"Is that good?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah. God, yeah." Steve's hips bucked forward appreciatively. "Uh, little faster?" Bucky did as requested. "Yeah, that's... ahh." Steve's hips began to grind into Bucky's fist.

After another few minutes, Bucky got a bright idea. "Here," he said, sitting up. "Lemme..." Steve let Bucky push him flat, lay still as Bucky repositioned himself to sit at his side. Bucky switched hands on Steve’s cock. His newly freed right hand slipped up Steve's thigh, up and under his balls.

Once Steve caught on, he spread his legs wide, splaying one across the bed, the other overlapping Bucky's lap. Bucky took the go-ahead and ran with it. He probed Steve's rim with his fingertips, finding him still slick. Then he gently pressed the tip of his middle finger in, not missing a beat with his left hand.

Steve responded with an encouraging moan and a little squirm. Bucky worked the finger deeper, in and out, a little further in each time. Once he was in to his second knuckle, he focused on tugging Steve's cock, speeding his hand up.

Steve's hips bucked as they found a rhythm, thrusting up and then back, moving his body between Bucky's hands. It wasn’t long before he was frantic, shoulders hunched, face contorted with need. "Harder," he begged.

Bucky squeezed tight with his left hand, trying to keep up speed, ignoring how his wrist wanted to lock up. He jammed his right hand up and in, working his finger as deep as it would go. Steve hollered. His whole body was straining for it, a solid mass of tense muscle. Bucky had never seen Steve so breathtakingly wanton.

"That's it, Stevie," Bucky murmured. Steve could only moan in return, so close to the edge he couldn’t form thoughts much less words. Bucky couldn’t help but smile. "That's right,” he encouraged. “Shoot that wad for me."

"Bucky! God!" The last words came out in a shout as Steve shot off in long arcs, splattering both of them. Bucky could feel Steve’s insides clutching at his finger. He moved his hands in time with the jerky movements of Steve’s hips, drawing spasm after spasm out of him. Bucky didn’t stop until Steve was dry and shuddering with overstimulation.

Bucky withdrew his left hand first, then his right. Steve didn't even flinch when Bucky pulled out of him, just lay slack and satisfied against the bed.

"Jesus," Steve swore.

“You’re tellin’ me,” Bucky agreed. “That’s the biggest load I’ve ever seen.”

“Well,” Steve said dizzily, “they don’t call me ‘super soldier’ for nothing.”

Bucky snorted. “C’mon,” he said, scooting off the bed awkwardly, sticky hands held close to his chest. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Steve followed, cupping his palms just above his pubic mound to prevent the fluid from dripping onto the floor.

In the bathroom they discovered another pleasant surprise – a double-wide tub with a showerhead attached. It still wasn’t quite big enough to fit them both comfortably, but they managed to make it work anyways.

* * *

The Howling Commandos never said a word about Steve and Bucky curling up together at night. The Commandos each had their own fair share of unfair gossip whispered behind their backs (and sometimes screamed in their faces) about their color, creed, country, and more. So they weren’t about to give anyone guff for the comfort that got them through the night. Anyway, soldiers going Greek was nothing new, and as far as they were concerned, it was nothing worth talking about.

Still, the pair were discreet as could be given the circumstances. They didn’t even fool around much, even in full darkness with no moon. But every night they bunked down a bit further from the rest than was strictly necessary. And every morning the Commandos looked the other way until they’d untangled from each other and rose for breakfast.

Today had been a rough one. One of those days where the fighting seemed endless, an infinity of moments where the only way to avoid death was to cause it, over and over and over again. Even after they left the scene of the battle behind them, the tension kept them looking over their shoulders. There had been too many close calls, in too quick a succession, until everything but killing and dying felt unreal.

Steve was the one to keep them on track, as always. He kept his chin up and his voice strong. He gave orders to keep the men’s minds busy, and when it was time to bunk down he ditched the tents so the men could take a few minutes to just breathe.

Once he crawled into the bivouac with Bucky, the confident facade fell away. He curled close to press his face into the hollow beneath Bucky's chin, then went silent and still. Bucky wrapped both arms around him as tight as he could. Steve practically had to double himself over to make it fit.

Now more than ever Bucky missed being able to nestle Steve into the curl of his body. This was a far cry from how they used to lie together, their bodies flush, with Bucky’s chin atop Steve's head and his toes hanging inches below Steve's feet. What he wouldn’t give to be able to wrap himself around Steve and really hold him again.

The yearning struck up a memory in Bucky's mind. It was funny enough to make him smile, even after the day they'd had. So he spoke up: "Remember the time we snuck into that speakeasy on the waterfront?"

Steve huffed a small laugh through his nose. Then he shifted slightly so that his voice wouldn't be muffled against Bucky's skin. "Barely. Didn't you have to carry me home?"

"Yeah," Bucky said, remembering. "You kept tellin' me to put you down, but you couldn't hold your own weight up. Boom, right on your ass."

Steve found himself smiling despite everything. "Your mom was so mad at us the next morning."

"Oh my god," Bucky laughed, "I'd almost forgotten. With that hangover?"

"Almost makes me glad I can't get drunk anymore."

"That was not a normal hangover. They sold us some rotgut, that’s for sure."

Steve nestled in a little closer. "Those were the days."

"They sure were." Bucky ran a hand down Steve's side and back up, feeling the firm muscle there. It pulled at something inside of him. When he spoke, it was halting, unsure. "Y'know, I'm glad. That things have changed. I don't gotta worry about you so much anymore." He paused, squeezing Steve's side, searching for words. "But I kinda miss it, too."

A beat of silence passed between them, long enough for Bucky to start wondering if he'd said the wrong thing. But then, softly, Steve replied: "Me too." His hands moved to return the squeeze, gentle under Bucky's ribs. "You took good care of me."

Bucky responded by planting a soft kiss on the crown of Steve's head. This, he finally realized, was the best thing about being with Steve. It had nothing to do with size, or strength, or ability. It all came down to the simple satisfaction of knowing Steve was cared for.

Steve was bigger now, less fragile. Bucky couldn’t hold him, or throw him, or carry him like he used to. But Bucky could still take care of him. With his rifle on the field, with his stories and jokes, with kisses stolen under cover of darkness. No matter what happened, no matter what changed, he’d always take care of Steve.

Before he let himself fall asleep, Bucky placed his hand on Steve's chest to feel the strong, steady beat of his heart. Neither of them had to say it out loud to know that they both took silent comfort in the gesture.


End file.
